


Never Let Me Go

by balmnroses



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Romance, Canon Universe, Heartache, M/M, Mutual Pining, My favourite Space Boys, Not a songfic!!!!!, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, Some Swearing, Some crying, best friend hunk, lots of gazing, pidge and keith are conspiracy bros, there will be music involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-10-25 00:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10752531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balmnroses/pseuds/balmnroses
Summary: “I meant it.”Keith blinks. “What?”Lance fumbles with the strings of his hoodie.“When I said you sing well. I meant it.”When the music stops, he meets him halfway - even when they're thousands of millions of miles apart.





	1. Close To You

**Author's Note:**

> This will be 6 chapters long, hope it goes well! (I love these boys...so much......)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo yeah, I planned for this to go really slowly, so buckle your seatbelts and get ready for some slow, slow burn…
> 
> By the way, [here's](http://greenteaquadratini.tumblr.com/post/160079368970/never-let-me-go-a-short-playlist) a list of the songs I used plus a few thrown in, check it out to relate to the fic and feel some serious heartache. (Alternatively, you can play Never Let Me Go by Florence and the Machine on repeat like I did and try not to cry.) Hang tight, fellas.

\---------------

It’s late and Lance is thinking of home again, and it just plain _sucks_.  

You’d think that with each passing day in the Castle, it gets easier to adjust and come to terms with the vastness of space - easier to feel that things are normal again, and that all of this is part of a life they were meant to lead.  

But it doesn’t come that easily, really. 

There’s not _one day_ that Lance doesn’t think of Earth and everything he left behind. He craves Earth and its soft sands, deep oceans and earthly contours; he craves the soft touch of his mother, the comfort of home, the warmth of freshly cooked food- oh my _god_ , enough of alien food goo, he’d do anything to taste some of Ma’s homecooked stuff…

It’s a small comfort that, at the very least, he’s not alone - he’s got the others, who are literally on the same boat, and they ground him, keep him from going insane. It lifts his heart when they talk about “Earth stuff”, like when they visit alien civilizations and see things that remind them of home (“ _Uh, doesn’t that alien pop star look like Selena Gomez, but with five eyes and really sharp fangs?_ ”), or when they’re seated together in the kitchen and they talk about how food really should be like. 

And at least they have music. Thanks to Pidge’s genius and Hunk’s mechanical excellence, paired with superior Altean technology, the Castle has excellent wifi and access to Galactic Radio, and Pidge most recently managed to hook them up with a lifetime subscription to an alien Spotify a few days ago, which was, in Lance’s opinion, the best thing that happened to them that entire month.

So now, even when he’s missing Earth and his family, he gets to listen to music that reminds him of who he is and where he comes from, which makes getting to sleep a little easier.

 

——--------------

 

Not tonight, though.

“Ugh, shut _up_ ,” Lance groans, because that’s it, that’s the sixth time he’s heard the same song’s playing on repeat and he doesn’t know exactly _what_ it is but it’s the moodiest. shit. ever. and he can’t sleep. 

He glances at the clock at his bedside. _1.43 AM_. His beauty sleep be damned. 

_Use your damn earphones_ , he grits, sitting up. Altean technology is pretty much as good as it gets but there’s something about the paneling (or wiring or piping, or _whatever_ ) of the corridor that allows a bit of sound to pass through adjacent walls, and it doesn’t usually bother Lance, but on this particular night sound is passing through louder than usual, and the moody music really isn’t his thing - and it’s droning into him and making him feel like he should be having a mid-life crisis right about now, so _yes_ , he’s had enough.

Slipping his robe on, Lance slides out of his room to locate the source- a turn of the head and it’s identified. He rolls his eyes. _Of course it’s him_. 

 

The door to Keith’s room, just a few meters down, is half-open, and the song emanating from behind it is unmistakable - if anything, it seems to grow louder by the second.

“Hey, Keith, dude,” Lance groans, marching to the doorway. “It’s way too late to be blasting this kinda shit- _oh, okay, fine_.”

The room’s empty, but Keith’s jacket hangs by the door. Lance supposes he’s out to see Red, or shower, or something. It’s just him and the tablet laying on Keith’s table, still playing that _same song_ \- what is it, anyway? 

Faced with the immediate choice to leave or snoop, Lance doesn’t hesitate to snoop, because _absolutely_ - _why-the-hell-not_.

He slides through the half-open door just far enough in to peer at the tablet screen. 

 

_Never Let Me Go._

 

Oh. Lance recognizes the artist, a redheaded lady who looks and sounds out-of-this-world. _Florence and the Machine._ She looks like a pure goddess on the album cover displayed at the bottom left corner. 

The song’s not bad at all, really, now that he’s standing here, listening to it proper instead of through the walls. Beautiful in a haunting, eerie way, in a way that sends shivers up his spine. 

It’s part of a playlist titled “Mood”, at which Lance can’t help but laugh, because, honestly, _mood?_ Strangely, it fits. Lance’s playlists are mostly ridiculous names and puns, but this guy makes no effort in disguising his moodiness.  

He’s about to scroll through the playlist to see more songs when he hears footsteps round the corner. _Oh, shit._ Lance practically leaps away from Keith’s doorway and into his room on his toes like his life depends on it, his door sliding shut just as the footsteps grow closer and the other door slides completely shut. 

Lance releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. God knows what Keith would do to him if he saw him standing half-into his room, looking through his music. Maul him, probably. 

He registers belatedly that he can still hear the song faintly even when the door is closed, but it doesn’t bother him, not at all.

 

——----------------------

 

Over the next few days, Lance realizes that if he keeps quiet enough, anytime from the hours of eleven at night to two in the morning, he’s able to tune into _Radio Keith_ , who seems to play the same kinds of songs with the same sad vibes - some he recognizes, some he doesn’t. Some nights Keith goes into full-on Lana Del Rey mode, and on those nights Lance isn’t sure whether he wants to hug Keith or punch him in the fucking face. It’s crazy - Lana songs are 90% sad, and Keith’s collection features the _saddest_ of the sad- 

But Lance listens-

_Tell me life is beautiful…_

-And he doesn’t know _exactly_ why _-_

_They all think I have it all…_

-But he lies awake and continues to listen, night after night. 

_I’m nothing…without you…_

It’s a strange sensation, listening to someone else’s music. It’s like peeking into their soul from a window that can’t physically be reached, revealing them in their purest, honest, most vulnerable state.

_All my dreams and all the lights mean…nothing…_

It’s a strange sensation, his heart aching over a distant melody.

_Without you…_

 

It isn’t until Lance hears _Without You_ four times in a row one night when it strikes him that maybe, just _maybe_ , he wants to know Keith better, wants to know more of _this_ side, the side that listens to soft, sad music all the time.

But in the day, when they’re out there, training and fighting and being a team, Lance can’t bring himself to approach the subject - what would he say, anyway? _Hey, so I sneaked into your room one night to check out your personal playlist, and now I listen to you listening to your songs in the distance, haha._ Lance facepalms right there and then. No, just no.

“Dude, is the food not good?”

Lance glances up to realise that he’s sitting right next to Hunk. They’re in the kitchen. It’s lunchtime. They’re eating lunch. 

Lance blinks. Recovering quickly, he grabs his spoon and takes a huge bite. “Mmm, Hunk, the day I don’t like your food is the day you gotta grab me by the shoulders, shake me real hard and yell, ‘ _who are you and what have you done with the real Lance???’_ ”

Hunk beams. “I knew you’d like it! Man, Coran was so sure that beetroot wouldn’t go with venax-polyps, but a- _ha_ , I said _no sir, we won’t know until we try_ , and look at what we have! A masterpiece in the making!” He gestures to their plates proudly, which sport what seems to be dark red mashed potato. Lance laughs, taking a second bite.

“You’re really working with this space food, man! _Mmm_ , this is good shit. My ma would approve.”

“No way.” Hunk’s eyes shine. “You always said your mom had high expectations for food!"

“Yeah, and this totally makes the cut.” Lance grins. “My ma just hates it when people refuse to _season_ their things, you know, with _actual spices_.”

“I. Completely. Get it.” Hunk places a hand on his chest, touched. “Thanks, Lance. I’m even more stoked for today’s mission now!”

“Wait, what?” Lance struggles to remember the details. Oh my god, he must’ve zoned out thinking about…what was it…

_Without you…_

“You weren’t paying attention at the briefing just now, were you?” Hunk sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Anyway, the low-down is that it’s a peaceful farmer planet, and we gotta help them pick some potatoes to show our support.”

“Uh-huh.” Lance raises an eyebrow. “And you’re stoked about it.”

“ _Lance._ It’s peaceful, fun, and involves alien potatoes! It’s gonna be totally cool.”

 

——-------------------------

 

The mission isn’t as “totally cool” as Hunk promises.

It’s peaceful all right, and nobody gets remotely injured, but it’s messy and it ends with everyone covered head-to-toe with mud. Turns out that “some potatoes” are actually _mandrakes_ , and pulling them out of the ground involves ample digging and screaming - from both parties involved - not to mention the flailing baby arms and legs which send dirt flying _everywhere_. 

So the mission is a success, and the farmer aliens happily agree to be allies in the war against the Galra Empire, but by the time they’re back in the Castle, all Lance wants is for the debrief to end, _stat_ , and to take a good, good shower, and listen to nothing but Ariana Grande for the rest of the damn day.

Except he can’t, because he can’t find his earphones and _Radio_ _Keith_ is louder than ever today - because  _someone_ had the exact same idea - and it’s throwing him off.

_Focus!_ Lance squeezes his eyes shut and tries to concentrate, but falters. _Ugh_ , he’s never let others prevent him from enjoying his music, but he’s struggling tonight. 

After one song, Lance gives up. It’s no use, really, he can’t focus. 

“Fucking hell, Keith.” 

He collapses onto his bed, hands running through his hair, still damp from the shower, exasperated and resigned. _Lord, I take it back,_ he mouths. He doesn’t want to know more now, dammit, he just wants the night to himself.

“Oh my god, at least change the song,” he mumbles, eyes closing.

 

 

As if on cue, the track switches to the next. 

For one moment Lance fears for his life, but he relaxes when the song starts playing. It’s a slow song, peppered with gentle piano notes, and it’s still sad, but so tender, so calming…and the melody’s familiar…

_I know you don’t need my protection…_

_Oh._ Lance’s eyes snap open. He knows that voice.

_But I’m in love, can’t blame me for checking…_

_It’s Rihanna. Oh my god, Keith knows Rihanna._ And suddenly Lance is excited, because he knows her, he _loves_ Rihanna, and he knows the song, it’s-

_I love in your direction…_

-It’s beautiful. He loves this song.

_Hoping that the message goes…_

His eyes widen. It’s not just Rihanna he’s hearing now.

_Somewhere close…_

It’s Keith, Keith’s voice, _just_ loud enough to be heard faintly-

_To you…_

His voice is soft, emotional, and so _gentle_.

_Close to you…._

The song continues, but Lance is lost. He’s suddenly ridiculously aware of his heartbeat, which thumps out of the song’s slow rhythm; it occurs to him that he’s never heard Keith sing before, not even hum, and that it had never occurred to him that his voice would be that…

_Somewhere close…to you…._

…That _beautiful_.

_Close to you…_

 

Lance feels his neck and face prickle with heat as he curls into himself. 

“Keith Kogane, you selfish prick.”

 

 

——------------------

 

The next day, Lance decides that he should probably say something instead of continuing his listening like a certified creep. It’s like he’s hiding a secret, and he’s _dying_ to share it, but he knows it’s _way_ too personal to tell Hunk or Pidge, and it’s not like he wants to make fun of Keith, really.

Honestly, it’s information he doesn’t rightly know what to do with.

The afternoon swings by, and Lance finds himself casually perched over the kitchen counter, listening to Hunk reading cookie recipes in a sing-song manner as he swirls his whisk. Pidge is helping Hunk with ingredient-gathering, opening cabinets and grabbing the occasional packet (“ _Maybe we can use this as a butter substitute? I can examine it_ - _”_ ), and Lance is laughing, watching their antics, feeling carefree. It’s days like these that make him feel better about the whole space defender situation.

The door slides open, and Keith walks in, plopping himself down on the nearest chair. Pidge bounces over in excitement.

“Keith! You will _not_ believe what I just found in. this. kitchen.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Cookie cutters! And not just any normal one,” Pidge’s eyes gleam. “ _Alien face_ cookie cutters. I found, like, ten kinds of tentacle faces and two that look like insects-”

Keith’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes betray his amusement. “Right.”

Pidge laughs. “Keith, ya big nerd, I know you love alien cookies as much as I do. Hold on, I’ll show you-” She bounds off towards the shelves again. Keith shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

Lance catches himself looking, and decides, _well, now’s a better time than never._

With the other two preoccupied, Lance pushes himself off the counter and approaches Keith, who’s now preoccupied with his cup of coffee and hasn’t noticed him coming from behind. Quietly, he slides into the chair behind him, bends down close to his ear, and says, softly so only Keith can hear,

“ _You sing well_.”

 

Keith slams his coffee cup onto the table and spins around instantly, eyes wide as he meets Lance’s. He doesn’t say anything, but his face, which is slowly turning pink, clearly reads _what the fuck_ –

Luckily, the others in the kitchen don’t seem to notice the commotion: Hunk’s busied himself with mixing bowls, and Pidge’s examining cookie cutters.

Keith continues to stare. “You- what-” He gestures at Lance wildly.  “Have you been _spying_ on me-”

“Dude, no, the walls are just really thin!” Lance waves his arms about frantically. “I’m not being creepy or whatever, honest! Just happened to hear you, er, yesterday.”

“Oh.” Keith exhales sharply. “Okay.”

“Mate.” Lance looks him dead in the eye. “I’m not here to make fun of you or whatever.”

“…Okay.”

_Oh. Um._ The truth is, Lance hadn’t planned the conversation till this far. Or at all, actually. 

Thankfully, Lance doesn’t have to decide on his next move because Pidge swoops in immediately, arms filled with the strangest cookie cutters he’s ever laid eyes on. “You’ll love this one,” she says gleefully, thrusting one at Keith. “It’s got three heads, like Cerberus, oh my _god_. And Lance,” she turns to him, grinning as she shoves one into his hands “I think this one fits you the best.”

Lance looks down at his palms. It’s an elegant dolphin figure with large razor fins and a curly tail. _The ocean_ , he thinks, as he grins. “Damn, Pidge, this shit is majestic.”

Hunk waves from behind the counter. “I’ll be needing those right about now!”

“Fine, fine!” Pidge grabs the two cutters and moves away. “Come and get your cookies in…an hour and a half, maybe?”

Lance turns to Keith, feeling like he should say something, but by the time his eyes are off Pidge, he’s already halfway out of the door. “Sure, thanks,” he calls as he swings out the doorway.

Lance’s hands circle absentmindedly around the abandoned coffee cup lying on the table next to him. 

“Can’t wait.”

 

\--------------------

 

There’s no music playing that night, and Lance feels almost uncomfortable as he stares into his ceiling. The air is strangely empty without those melancholic sounds he’s gotten used to, and now he’s just feeling plain stupid about the entire situation.

_In what reality would things have gone well,_ he thinks bemusedly. _Is this considered okay?_ Because, honestly, it’s not like he wants things to be weird with Keith. He’s a tad bit angsty and crazy impulsive, sure, but Lance doesn’t _hate_ Keith – and he sure as hell doesn’t want Keith to hate _him_ , oh my god. They’re great as a team, and – Lance would never admit it in public, but – he kind of enjoys the banter they have. It keeps him grounded. Keeps him in his element.

Lance heaves a deep sigh and rolls to his side. His tablet lies right next to his bedside, along with a plate of dolphin-shaped cookies ( _chewy-center, not bad_ ) – he could easily fill his room with his own music and leave it at that.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel like it. Strangely enough, he just wants to hear that same sad music again.

It’s the weirdest craving he’s ever had, ever.

“Ugh, what the hell.”

Lance is a problem-solver. He’s going to resolve this.

 

\--------------------

 

Two knocks is all it takes for Keith to open his door. The door slides half-open, and Keith’s head peeks out.

“What- _oh_.”

He stares at Lance for a good five seconds before promptly moving to shut the door again.

“Hey- wait, _hey_!” Lance sticks his foot in the gap and grasps at the door anxiously. “Keith, what the hell!”

The door bounces open, and there stands Keith in a black T-shirt and pants, hair falling over his eyes. He folds his arms and looks away.

“What do you-”

“ _I meant it_.”

Keith blinks. “What?”

Lance fumbles with the strings of his hoodie.

“When I said you sing well. I meant it.”

“…Oh.”

“Yeah…sorry if I was creepy about it.”

“Uh-huh.”

They stand in silence for a good while, Keith looking at the ground, Lance looking straight ahead, his fingers digging into the pockets of his hoodie nervously. 

“Um-” Keith starts, suddenly raising his gaze to meet Lance’s. “Okay, um-”

He turns away, moves to sit on his bed and glances at Lance.

“You can come in…if you want, I guess.”

_Oh._ Lance feels a tingle of warmth run through his body. “Sure.”

 

\---------------------

 

Keith’s room layout is pretty much the same as his, but the vibe’s different. A few small knives lie splayed on a cloth on the desk, next to a figurine of a black cat, the walls empty save for a few illustrations he’s picked up at alien vintage stores over the past months, a scroll with alien inscriptions, and a map of Earth. 

It’s decidedly less colourful than his room, Lance thinks, but no less dull.

He decides to plonk himself on the bed right next to Keith. “How are the cookies?” he queries, gesturing towards the small ceramic bowl sitting by the bedside.

Keith picks one out – it’s in the shape of a three-headed bear.

“As good as space cookies get, I guess,” he says, taking a bite. “Not too bad, really. This one has…berries in it?”

“Damn, mine only had oats. Lemme try.”

“Mmm.” Keith holds the cookie out in front of Lance, and instead of taking it with his hand, Lance swoops down and grabs the rest of the cookie by his teeth in a flash.

“Yum.”

Keith stares at him, then scoffs.

“Weirdo.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Says the guy who listens to sad music 24/7.”

“Says the guy who listens to said guy’s music _through the walls_ – which by the way, is not that sad.”

“Oh, it’s _sad_ all right.” Lance smirks. “Look through it now and tell me it isn’t sad.”

Keith raises a brow. “Is that a _challenge_?”

Lance grabs Keith’s tablet from behind him and starts swiping. “You tell me – _aha_ , the moody playlist. Titled “Mood”. Really, Keith, really?”

“I don’t waste time naming my playlists!” Keith says indignantly, but doesn’t make an effort to snatch the tablet from Lance’s hands. Instead, he leans back into his bed, closing his eyes and sighing. “Do what you want, just don’t delete anything.”

Lance pretends to hover over the delete button “Oh, what’s _this_ red button the shape of a trashcan-”

“ _Lance_.”

“Kidding, kidding!” Lance laughs. He turns to glance down at Keith, who looks like he’s torn between being amused, annoyed and embarrassed all at once. _Huh_ , Lance thinks. It’s rare for Keith to share like this – or maybe he hasn’t ever had the chance to share.

He grips Keith’s tablet a bit more protectively – strangely, even though it’s just music, his protective instincts are kicking in – it makes him feel like he ought to guard it.

“Well, let’s see what we have here- _Keith_ , this isn’t a playlist, it’s just a compilation of Lana Del Rey songs.”

“Oh, come on- scroll down, would you?”

“Okay, okay…but if I cry while I’m scrolling...”

“Ha ha. Cry me a river.”

Turns out that the list is only 30% Lana, and as he scrolls, Lance starts seeing other names and titles. “Oh, I know these…”

His fingers stop at the song he heard the very first time – _Never Let Me Go_ – and he hesitates.

“I can go ahead and play any song, right?”

Keith peers at the screen, then at Lance. “Why not?”

Lance stares. Hits play.

 

Florence’s voice is sorrowful, yet soothing, and her melody carries into the night.

 

\-------------------

 

They stay up for another hour, mostly with Keith defending his music choices ( _some Glee songs are very good and invoke a lot of emotion, mind you_ ) and Lance trying not to cry while listening to some of them ( _oh my god, the guy in the story dies at the end of the song?_ ).

It’s not until Lance is listening to what must be the fifteenth song they’re on when he realizes that he…actually _likes_ this. He’s at ease, more at ease than he’s felt in ages – and _Keith_ -

Keith, whose default emotion is practically ‘brooding’, whose temper is as fiery as the flames of the Sun, who wears his hair in a bloody mullet and _somehow_ manages to look good in it – is actually the _softest_.  

 

Oh my god, Lance thinks. He so wants to protect this. Whatever it is.

 

\---------------------

 

Things are kind of better now that he’s been honest and Keith’s opened up. They’re not the way they used to be, but Lance doesn’t mind – it’s comfortable.

Some nights he listens to his own songs, other nights he tunes into the silence, waiting for the music to start (Keith never uses earphones in his room, _ever_ , he’s come to realize) – and on those nights he doesn’t hear anything, Lance blasts his _own_ music, which is all pop and funky beats, and waits for Keith to say something (“ _Lance, I swear, if you play Sugar one more time_ -”).

Honestly, though, Lance thinks, he likes this; it’s crazy fun. It’s fun when they have ridiculous “morning-after” banter ( _“Wow, Keith, Lana again? You’re such a teenage girl._ ” _“You say that like it’s supposed to be insulting.”_ ), when they encounter something outside and share something like an inside joke, when they occasionally burst in on each other to drop new songs late into the night, when the music stops and they talk about everything and anything-

 

\----------------------

 

“Why don’t you ever use earphones?”

“Huh?” Keith, caught off-guard, frowns. “Why don’t I…?”

“I-I mean, I don’t care, but,” Lance shrugs. “Do you ever use, like, headphones or anything, or do you just play your music like that all the time?”

“Oh.” Keith looks like he’s been put on the spot. He runs his fingers through his hair carelessly. “It’s what I’ve always done, I guess....”

Lance glances at Keith curiously as he trails off. “Mmm?”

Keith sighs. “When you live by yourself in the desert,” he says. “things can get pretty lonely, and you start feeling like- I don’t know, like you’ve been rejected. So it’s the least I can do to make myself feel like I’m not alone.”

He turns to meet Lance’s gaze. “…Music is the best way to fill up the empty space.”

Lance falters. “Oh- dude…”

But Keith’s kind of smiling. “I’m not trying to get your sympathy or whatever, chill.”

Lance scoffs, attempting to throw off the sad pang that just hit him. “Uh-please, I’m jealous. I never had personal space back home. Always five other kids scrambling for room. Although-” He smiles fondly. “I’d do anything to have them cramp my space again.”

Keith’s expression softens. “Uh-huh.”

“Back in my home, I always had to use earphones or my ma would kill me, she’d be like-” Lance mimics his mother’s voice. “ _Lance, the world don’t revolve around your sorry ass, think about the rest of us in this house!_ ”

Keith smirks.

“I bet it’s cause you forced them to listen to Katy Perry all day.”

Lance clicks his tongue in mock offense. “Excuse _you_ , there was no force involved, my mom loves Katy Perry...”

“Haha, sure.”

Keith glances at Lance thoughtfully and falls silent for a moment.

“…They sound nice, your family.”

“Yeah, uh-” Lance heaves a deep sigh. “I love them, yeah…”

_And I miss them, and I just wanna know if they’re okay, you know?_

Keith shifts his body to face Lance directly, his expression earnest, heartfelt.

“It won’t be long,” he says, quietly.

 

Nothing else is said, but they understand each other. _You’ll see them again, we’ll make sure of that._

 

“I-I…”

Lance blinks furiously. Realizes he’s fighting back tears.

“Can I…ah, _fuck-_ ”

 

Instinctively, he reaches out and pulls him in, arms looping around his torso, head nestling into the crook of his neck because _he_ _doesn’t care_ , he really needs a hug right now.

Keith initially tenses up, but as Lance lets his head fall, the tension in his shoulders seem to evaporate, and he slowly returns the hug, fingers latching onto the fabric of the back of his jacket, hair brushing against the side of Lance’s face as he shifts closer. His touch is warm, his hair soft, his heartbeat steady, reassuring Lance. He’s okay. He’s good. He’s here.

Lance’s cheeks prickle with heat. “Uh, sorry…” He utters, embarrassed. But he doesn’t pull away.

“Don’t be.” Keith doesn’t move, either.

 

They stay like this, and Lance can’t help but wonder how the stars aligned to bring them to this very moment – two Earth boys, their rivalry built on meaningless tussles, caught in constant competition, now forging an inexplicable harmony, bringing the only real comfort in the daunting face of an infinite Space.

“…Thanks,” he mumbles into Keith’s shoulder, not wanting to let go just yet.

  

And Keith makes just the tiniest laugh in his shoulder, making his heart flutter just the slightest–

-And now Lance never wants to let go.

 

_Oh._

 

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading, let me know if you’re liking it! I sat on this one for a week before I started, and another week once I finished, because I was so worried it wouldn’t be good, but heck, I’m doing it, not gonna regret. Lemme know if I should stop, though.
> 
> Fun fact: to get started on this fic, I made 2 playlists – one happy, one sad – and now I can’t stop listening to them. Come pester me on my [tumblr](http://greenteaquadratini.tumblr.com) if you wanna talk music and klance…and cry about ‘em…
> 
> (In all seriousness, though, do come and say hi! update: my notes fucked up but they're back! sorry it got messy!)
> 
> Anything related to this fic, I’ll tag as #fic: nlmg on my blog. Love you guys; pray I update soon.


	2. Lost Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for waiting! I had fun writing this, hope yall have fun reading it. Let’s get to it.  
> (Oh, I made [another short playlist](http://greenteaquadratini.tumblr.com/post/160304218935/hopefully-this-makes-you-feel-a-little-happier) – it’s kind of upbeat this time? This fic isn’t a songfic though, there aren’t like duets or anything, sorry!)
> 
> There's some fun alien mission adventure this chapter so yay!

 ----------------------

 

Keith has never listened to this much pop music in his entire _life_.

Not that he’s complaining, though. Pop music isn’t bad, just….cheerful? He supposes that’s something of a positive trait, although he prefers his music more mellow - or, as Lance would call it, “depressing” (and, one time, “heartbreaking”). _Ugh_ , his song choices aren’t even _that_ gloomy - it’s only because Lance listens almost exclusively to bubblegum pop and assorted boppy tunes, which taints his point of comparison. 

Nevertheless, he’s feeling himself becoming a slightly cheerier person, which he strongly suspects is due to Lance’s influence. The guy’s a fucking firework.

_Ugh, Lance._

Keith’s never actually hated Lance, no - he’s just naturally competitive, and Lance always seems up to the challenge, always on for a fight, always igniting the flame _._ Keith knows the Blue Paladin’s natural element is water, but Lance’s spirit is hot and fiery, and it sparks him every damn time- 

Although, now that he’s started to understand him more, Keith realizes that he was wrong, that Lance isn’t flame. Lance is wild, but he’s also calm, nimble, fluid, like rolling waves or a winding stream-

_Lance_ , with his constant stream of babbles, his extensive knowledge on memes and pop culture, his infectious laughter, the crazy glint in his sharp eyes-

_Lance-_

Lance is the ocean.

…And in the ocean, he is lost.

\---------------------

 

“So, do you sing a lot?”

Keith tears his gaze away from Lance’s wall, which is partially decorated with small glittery stars. “Uh, not really,” he says. “Where is this coming from?”

“‘Cause,” Lance shrugs. “I heard you that one time, and- er-”

_Right._ “Um…yeah…I don’t really, no…”

“Oh.” Lance falls silent for a moment, turning his head to look at the stars. 

“…You should do it more, you know. You, uh, sing good?” 

“Oh…” Keith doesn’t really know how to respond - should he thank him, maybe? 

“Much eloquent, Lance.” 

_Okay, okay, sarcasm works, too._

Luckily, it doesn’t seem too shitty a response, because Lance simply rolls his eyes. “You idiot. Your voice is nice, I bet Hunk - no, _Shiro_ \- would cry real tears in exchange for a song request.”  

“Ha, no, please.” Keith, who’s sitting cross-legged on Lance’s bed, shifts himself to its inner corner, resting his head against the wall. “I only sing to myself. And to plants.”

Lance ogles at him. “You can sing to plants but not to people?”

“Well, _obviously._ I’d rather sing in front of a cactus than in front of Shiro any day,” Keith sputters. “Don’t tell the others about me _singing_ , goodness-”

“Relax, relax!” Lance laughs. “I didn’t, like, spread the word or whatever. It’s not my secret to share.”

The song that’s playing in the background trails off, and the next one starts.

_I wanna see your peaco-_

“Okay, _nope._ ” Keith snatches the tablet sitting between them and halts it immediately. 

“Dammit, Keith!” Lance groans. “Katy Perry’s always so danceable! Gimme here-” He peers at the screen, fingers scrolling. “And…aha.” Selects _Hot N Cold._

“You can’t hate this song,” he says, bopping to the music.

“I mean, it’s not bad, just a bit bubblegum…”

Keith watches Lance dance to the beat in amusement. _You! Change your mind!_ Lance lip-syncs, pointing at Keith dramatically. He’s in his element, Keith thinks, as he watches Lance pretend to hold a mike and hit every high note, and, at the chorus, point energetically at members of an imaginary crowd with each ‘ _You!’_ that’s sung - and occasionally at Keith, whose gaze he meets with smiling eyes–

Keith can’t help but wonder where all his energy comes from; he’s fucking _radiant_. 

“You’re a dancer, then,” he comments as he watches Lance, who’s currently attempting some kind of half-dance with his upper body. Lance throws finger guns at him, winking.

“There isn’t a beat that I can’t dance to,” he sings. “Except for some of your songs, Keith. They’re ridiculously slow. Maybe they’re more suitable for ballroom, or ballet - oh!” His face lights up. “Oh my god, I actually really like ballet.”

The image of Lance as a ballet dancer is one-part hilarious, one-part captivating, and Keith quickly snaps himself out of it.

“Do you ever sing?” He asks suddenly.

“Uh-” Lance leans back and hums. “Maybe…in the shower?” 

Keith nudges him lightly. “Sing something. Your favourite song.”

“My favourite song…? Uh- I don’t have a favourite, probably. Besides-” Lance shoots him an incredulous look. “What kind of request is that? Lance McClain is a free man and takes orders from no one.”

“Hey, were practically singing just now, mic and all - you just need to add in the voice.” Keith points out. “Besides, you owe me one.” 

He’s joking, though. Lance, who’s made his nights infinitely less lonely, doesn’t owe him a goddamn penny.

Lance just laughs and shakes his head. He leans all the way back, till he’s lying flat on his back, limbs sprawled, loose, brown hair falling over his forehead like soft waves as he tilts his head back just slightly, embracing the softness of the mattress. Glances up at Keith and smiles.

“Maybe one day…if you’re lucky.”

 

\---------------------

 

It seems like music’s slowly becoming a recurring thing in their lives – a few days down the road, Coran digs up a collection of Altean music from the depths of the Castle. Allura has never been more excited.

“What, we ran to the deck for _this_?” Pidge complains, gesturing towards what appear to be a stack of ornately-decorated cassette tapes. “I was _this close_ to hacking a new alien broadcasting channel-”

“ _This_ ,” Allura exclaims, “is a compilation of the greatest Royal Altean compositions of my time, and is possibly the greatest treasure we’ve ever uncovered since Coran’s and my awakening from the cyropods!”

“Indeed!” Coran pipes, twirling around the team. “These may in fact be the last original Altean recordings in the entire universe.” He looks up into space wistfully as he cradles a tape in his hands. “I never thought I’d get to hold one in my hands again.”

“Okay…but what does it all matter if we have alien Spotify?” Lance questions.

“Lance, alien Spotify has, like, _Beethoven_ -level stuff, but this music is over ten thousand years old, which is _way_ ancient.” 

“Fair point, Hunk.”

“Well then,” Shiro, having met Allura’s eye, surveys the room expectantly. “Let’s give them a listen, shall we?” 

 

\------——-------

Keith decides that he likes ancient Altean music even _less_ than the Ting Tings.

It turns out that, to human ears, Altean music sounds like a symphony of classical music and electronic funk beats, almost impossible for a human to comprehend with the naked ear. However, according to Allura, who tears up a little as the first song plays, it’s supposed to sound like the chorus of a thousand angels – moving beyond words.

“Perhaps the human brain processes the soundwaves differently? But sound’s just vibrations…maybe it’s an alien thing. _Ah_ -” Pidge immediately grabs her laptop and pulls on her headphones. “Gimme a minute. Hunk, fetch me the thing.”

“I got your back!” Hunk dashes out, yelling a hurried _see you later, alligator_ as he turns the corner.

“I suppose Altean ears are wired differently from your human ones,” Coran muses, tugging at Lance’s ear curiously. “Goodness, I remember when we first saw these – “what ugly ears,” you said, Princess!”

Allura giggles, her ears perking up as the music continues to fill the room, visibly lifting her spirit. “Goodness, Coran, can you believe that was the first thing I saw when I awoke? Lance’s little ears?”

“Excuse me!” Lance protests indignantly, Coran busy examining his ear lobes. “My ears are _beautiful_.” 

“Indeed, they’re so _cute_.” Both Coran and Allura laugh affectionately, and Lance groans, resigned.

Pidge waves an arm at them enthusiastically, grabbing their attention. “Alright, so I’m working on a program that can help us humans listen to these tracks,” she quips. “If Hunk can help me fix up my extra transmitter and wire it to these headphones, we might be able to temporarily hear like Alteans!”

Keith stares pointedly at Pidge. The girl’s so dangerously intelligent, it both scares and impresses him. “Once again, are you sure you’re not just an alien in disguise?”

Pidge shrugs, grinning. “Dunno. Could be.”

\---------------------

 

Five minutes later, Hunk’s began work, his gaze determined as he delicately fixes various wires and chips together, exchanging jargon-filled instructions with Pidge, who’s busy tapping furiously on her keyboard. Hunk’s fingers are quick, precise, but also very gentle, like he’s _sewing_ instead of soldering.

“They really are amazing,” Allura hums in awe as the rest of them glance over from the other side of the room, the Altean records still playing faintly in background. “The Paladins of Voltron always do bring hidden talents to the table.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance waggles his eyebrows at her. “What’s mine?”

Keith scoffs. “Being insufferable.”

“Please. You know you love me.” Lance leans towards him, grinning, and Keith just rolls his eyes.

“Get out of my space.”

“Oh, like this?” Lance teases, waving his arms around Keith’s face. Keith pushes them away without hesitation, causing Lance to topple to the side.

“Guys…” Shiro starts, but Keith doesn’t need to hear his warning. He casts a glance at Lance, who catches his eye, makes a ridiculous face and picks himself up again.

It’s not like becoming friends has changed them – they still bicker and fight and throw bizarre insults at each other. But it’s not like they don’t get along – they know it now – it’s just that the banter comes so ridiculously easily, and it’s _fun_ , it keeps the energy up.

Things are different, but it’s not like they’re different people, Keith thinks.

When he glances at Lance again, he sees him gesturing wildly at Coran, who’s whipped out his new music collection.

“-Coran, is that- _that’s Katy Perry_!” Lance is exclaiming. “You- how did you even get that- never mind, you love Katy Perry!”

“Oh, you mean _this_ fantastic Earth woman?” Coran beams as he poses with a vinyl of _California Girls_ from behind him _,_ much to Lance’s delight. “Oh, she is such a joy to listen to!”

“ _Right_?” Lance shoots a look at Keith. “At least _someone_ appreciates quality pop beats, unlike your emo ass.”

“ _Emo_? Really?”

“Yeah, dude, you practically ooze _Welcome to the Black Parade-_ ”

Shiro looks like he’s trying to stifle a laugh. Keith huffs exasperatedly.

“It is an _iconic_ song-”

The conversation is interrupted by yells of delight from the other end of the room. They look up to see Pidge and Hunk cheering, Hunk with the headphones on, Pidge hoisting a beeping transmitter in the air triumphantly.

“This is incredible!” Hunk’s almost crying at this point. “Oh my god, you guys have to hear this-”

“We managed to recreate an Altean ear of sorts – basically, it converts the original soundwaves to stuff that we humans can understand,” Pidge explains. “It’s a fragile device because we literally just put everything into place _seconds_ ago, and it probably won’t last long, but hey, it works!”

Lance gapes.

“You guys are crazy. Have I told you guys that I love you? No? I love you guys.”

\---------------

 

After rounds of praise, the team decide to give it a listen – and Hunk’s right, it _is_ incredible. It’s nothing like Earth music – there’s no distinct beat, just harmony, and it flows like cosmic energy. _Altean music doesn’t tell, it makes you feel,_ Allura explains, as she watches them take turns with the headphones. When it’s Keith’s turn, she selects a traditional celebratory piece, and it’s positively radiant – Keith can’t make out the words, but the melody is joyous and grand and soulful, and it fills him with a sense of hope he thinks he’s never felt before.

He can’t help but smile, broadly, and Lance, who’s been watching him curiously through the corner of his eyes, turns his head and stares at him, a sort of strange awe shading his wide eyes.

And he smiles back.

\-----------------

 

Unfortunately, the Galra Empire waits for no one in forging its path to galactic supremacy, so today they’re back at it, attempting to rescue the likes of one Primo Almo, the Leader of Planet Nula.

“What kind of dumb leader gets lost in the bloody _forest_?”

“Be more respectful, Lance.” Shiro chides. “And yes, he’s somewhere in this forest, and our goal today is to find him and bring him back to his people. Now, the villagers told me that this forest is teemed with predatory creatures, so keep your wits about you.”

Keith whips his bayard out, wary. The foliage surrounding them is dense and dark, but quiet for now. “Okay, so what kind of creatures live in these woods?”

“They didn’t say, but I’d assume that they’re dangerous. If you come across them, _do not immediately engage_ -” Shiro glances at Keith pointedly. “-but try to maneuver around them. With four of us on the ground and Pidge in the sky, we should be able to make our way through relatively safely…I hope.”

“ _I’ll try my best, guys_.” Pidge’s voice buzzes in from the earpiece. “ _Just keep your helmets on. Hopefully the foliage doesn’t mess with our comms too much; this forest is_ _thick, and there’s a weird fog over it that’s making visibility poor from above_.”

“Thanks, Pidge.” Keith makes a mental note of the way the tall, spiraling trees shroud them, large pale pink leaves looming over their heads, blocking most of the murky green sky. They shouldn’t stay put for too long, or they’ll become vulnerable.

“I don’t get why _I’m_ on the field,” Hunk says miserably, grasping his bayard nervously. “I’m only going to slow you guys down if we’re on foot.”

“Nonsense! You’re our leg, pal, we need your firepower if things go south.” Lance pats Hunk’s shoulder reassuringly. “Also, your sense of direction is great.”

Shiro nods. “Precisely. In any event, we’re a team; we’ll look out for each other. Besides, you have more common sense than Lance and Keith combined. We need you here.”

“Exactly- wait, what?”

“Never mind that…” Keith surveys the environment, a growing sense of warning creeping up on him. “The more we stand around, the more we look like sitting ducks. Any updates?”

Pidge’s voice crackles in. “ _Right. So the villagers were saying Almo went into the forest to collect crystals from the caves, right? My probes are telling me that he’s in one of the caves at the base of…a large structure. A mountain. Er, it’s to the South. Can you see it?_ ”

Keith shifts his head and peers through the foliage, discerning part of what is possibly the _whitest_ mountain he’s ever seen – the large tree leaves block his line of sight, but it’s clearly the only mountain around, covered in pure white crystals and snow, its peak circled by a thin, swirling mist.   _What kind of tropical forest has an ice mountain in its middle_ , he wants to ask, but he’s come to realize that in space, anything is possible.

“We see it,” Shiro confirms as he moves ahead, gesturing for the team to follow him. “It’s not too far away. We’ll head straight for it, unless there’s a better route…?

“ _Nothing for now. Go straight ahead._ ”

They move ahead, stepping around tree roots and odd bushes cautiously. It would probably have been better if they’d been on vehicles or something, but the inhabitants of Nula would not allow it, advising that the forest, which seemed to have a mind of its own, “would deny any such machinery”. Even with their lions, they hadn’t been able to get very far due to the strange, dense fog looming over. So on foot their journey was to be.

“What’s up with this forest, anyway?” Lance mutters, glancing at the treetops as they pass a stream. “You don’t think it’s gonna turn on us and kill us, do you?”

“Hopefully not.” Shiro parts the leaves ahead carefully. “Hunk, how’s it looking at the back?”

“It’s good – _wait_ – oh, nothing, sorry, it’s just another leaf.”

Keith passes through silently, his grip on his bayard firm. The branches, deep brown and etched with the same gently curving grooves that cover the trunks, intertwine above them, connecting adjacent trees – the more Keith observes the more he realizes they keep connecting, and the canopy stretches on. The light, filtered through the foliage, glances off the tree bark, casting a warm light on the grass and the occasional shrub, and though the air is still, each leaf seems to quiver with its own energy-

“ _Oh shit- guys, guys!_ ” Pidge exclaims frantically over the intercom.

Hunk’s face pales. “Oh no.”

“ _Bad news, there’s a small horde headed straight in your direction, I can’t tell what they are at all but they don’t seem friendly, you gotta move-_ ”

Shiro’s eyes widen as he turns. “Behind us!”

_Fuck_. Keith barely manages to activate his sword before he catches a glimpse of a figure moving towards them…no…a group of creatures _galloping_ -

And they’re moving, moving fast, dodging branches and roots and leaves, zig-zagging, trying to get _away_ , but the horde doesn’t seem to be slowing or losing interest. Keith’s eyes are darting all over, searching frantically for another path-

“We can’t stay on the ground,” he pants. “They’re not going to stop.”

“Jetpack time?” Lance hollers, close behind.

“There’s no way we’ll be able to fly through the mess overhead,” Hunk yells. “Too many branches!”

“Ah, fuck this shit, _this_ is why the ocean is great, none of this tree nonsense-”

“If you don’t have any good ideas,” Keith shouts, hurdling over a log. “Can you _please_ shut up?”

Lance opens his mouth to retort, but his words are lost as they come to a standstill. Ahead of them, the ground is scattered with glowing spikes, which seem to rattle and snap. They cling to the bottom of the surrounding trees like barnacles to a post. Shiro swears under his breath.

“We have to go around them, can’t risk it.”

The sound of the horde grows nearer, and Hunk is panicking. “Oh my god, this is so not how I wanted to die-”

“We’re not going to die. Let’s just fight them off.” Keith’s got his weapon out, as does Lance. Shiro, who’s already assumed a natural fighting stance, narrows his eyes.

“We may not have a choice,” He says steadily. “But it’s also best if we find a way out. It’s not like we can jetpack our way out of here if we can’t handle it.” 

Lance groans. “Goddamn branches…”

_God damn it all_ , Keith thinks desperately, mind racing as he grips his sword tightly. The forest, though beautiful, is dangerous, and it’s a wonder that the Leader they’re trying to rescue even made it to the mountain at all, given the crazy mess of plants and puzzling canopy of interwoven branches, all of which seem to be such hindrances, why does anyone even bother going on foot-

Something clicks in Keith’s mind.

“The branches,” he breathes, deactivating his bayard.

“Yeah, that’s what I said _-_ ”

“No-” He jerks his chin at the grooves of the trunk closest to him and up to the intertwined branches. “We need to climb them, you idiot. It’s an overhead network. Almo didn’t make it this far by _running_.”

Lance gapes at him like he’s gone insane. “They’re stick thin!”

“Actually, I think they’re quite sturdy,” Hunk says, sweating nervously. “Like, not just because I’m freaking out, but my shoulder bumped into a low branch just now and I think it hurt me more than I hit it.”

The team hears a snarl, and just in the distance Keith can see, amongst the trees and grass, a white, beady-eyed creature on all fours, another six behind him, headed straight for them-

Shiro nods sharply at Keith. “We’re doing it.”

In a flash, they’re climbing, fingers digging into the grooves, arms reaching out for the best grip, feet finding their place as the creatures reach their position and start circling the bottom of the trees menacingly. They’re elegant, alligator-like creatures, each three to four feet long, complete with spiky backs, long claws, and two sets of menacing jaws each, all snapping fiercely at their feet.

“Holy shit!” Lance yells. “What the _fuck_!”

“Keep going!” Shiro bellows, hoisting himself to higher ground before grabbing Hunk’s hand to pull him up. “We should be safe above them if they can’t climb.”

“Oh my god, can they climb?” Hunk throws him a horrified look as he grips the surrounding branches for dear life. “Please tell me they can’t climb.”

“I don’t think it gets worse than this,” Keith hisses, kicking away a claw as he swings himself up.

“Don’t _say_ that, Keith, you’re gonna jinx us!”

“ _Save it for later, Lance!_ ”

Fortunately, trusting Keith’s instincts pays off, because it turns out that the alligator-like creatures are, in fact, not able to climb, though they _are_ able to jump four feet high. They’re left snarling at them from ten feet below, tails flailing wildly as they jump and gnash at the trunks, which somehow seem completely unscathed despite countless bites and slashes.

“Good call, Keith,” Shiro shouts. They’re on separate trees now, Lance and Keith on one, Shiro and Hunk on the other. “Pidge, come in. Are you still there?”

“ _Oh god, guys._ ” Pidge’s voice, loud and frantic, bursts into their headsets. “ _I’m so sorry I couldn’t help, shit – everyone good?_ ”

“As good as we’ll ever be,” Keith grits, shifting just a bit higher to avoid a jumping jaw. “How’s it looking?”

“ _Not too bad. You guys are pretty near the mountain. One thing, though – there are quite a few caves, and I’m not sure exactly which one Almo is in – you’ll have to go in and find out which one._ ”

“Not a problem,” Shiro says, visibly relieved. “We’ll split up and cover the caves. Keith, go with Lance and take the left route. Hunk and I will go right. The branch network should lead us right to it.”

\-----------------

 

Thanks to the continuing presence of alligators on the ground, the team’s stuck to moving on the elevated path of branches, which is somehow easier to handle than expected. The network’s led the two groups to different paths, but with the intercoms up and a familiar figure by his side, Keith is reassured.

“Damn, if we’d known tree-climbing was a Nula thing, we could’ve just climbed our entire way,” Lance mutters, sliding between branches.

“Ugh, I can’t believe the villagers didn’t tell us.”

“Okay, but we have two arms and they have, what- a hundred? Maybe they thought we couldn’t handle the climbing.”

“Or maybe they assumed we’d know.” Keith sighs. “Are those things still following us?”

“Er-” Lance glances down and shudders. “Gross, they’re still there.”

Two of the predatory creatures remain below their feet, snapping and snarling at them occasionally as they make their way to their end destination. Thankfully, the base of the mountain is right ahead of them.

Keith stops in his tracks. “We need to lose them before we get back to the ground, or they’ll be nothing but trouble.”

Lance frowns. “So…we’re gonna have to wait for them to lose interest in us?”

“Apparently.” Keith hoists himself onto a higher, thicker branch, leading to a small flat landing – a concave in the nearest tree trunk, hidden from ground view. He glances at Lance, extending his hand. “Come on.”

Lance stares at him, contemplating, before taking his hand. “Huh.”

 

They sit in the concave in silence, catching their breath from the chase-and-climb. The space is small and they’re sitting next to each other, legs sprawled on surrounding branches, shoulders almost touching, backs leaned against the inside of the trunk, which seems to pulsate with a warm energy. It’s in that moment that Keith takes in the life force of the forest in its entirety, of the glowing veins in the palm leaves, the marbled bark, the tiny glimmers of light reflected on every single surface- 

“Fireflies,” Lance suddenly blurts, turning to Keith. “It’s fireflies.”

Keith stares at him like he’s grown an extra head. “…Excuse me?”

“You asked me about my favourite song before, right?” Lance’s cheeks and ears glow a bright pink. “I lied, I do have favourites. One of it’s _Fireflies_. That Owl City song?”

Comprehension washes over Keith as he relaxes. “I know that song,” he says, feeling a smile tug at his lips. “It’s kind of old, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Lance shakes his head. “I mean, it’s not really _that_ old but man, does it take me back. Like, it reminds me of the beauty of Earth, and…a more innocent time, you know? It cheers me up loads.”

Keith nods slowly. He gets it. The mystical beauty of this forest, no matter how exquisite, can never compare to the comfort and love Earth provides. It’s inexplicable.

Lance looks down almost shyly. “It’s a stupid cheesy song, but I love it so much. I know, I’m lame-”

“No,” Keith says immediately, causing Lance to jerk his head up in surprise.

“No…?” Lance stares, wide-eyed, and Keith feels like his breath’s been knocked out of him.

“I mean…” Keith exhales deeply. “It’s not lame to love that song,” he says quietly. “It’s beautiful.”

 

He means it.

 

If Lance wasn’t blushing earlier, he sure is blushing now. “Oh,” he mumbles, his gaze on Keith unwavering, expression soft.

Keith isn’t sure whether the warmth in his cheeks are coming from the tree or from himself.  

“ _Hey, just checking in, how is everyone?_ ” Hearing Shiro’s voice in his ear jolts him back to reality.

“Ah-” Keith almost stammers. ”We’re right at the base, just waiting for the alligator-things to get the hell away from us so we can get in there and find our guy-”

Lance interjects as he examines the ground twelve feet below carefully. “Scratch that, the swamp monsters got bored of us and left, so we’re gonna head in there asap.”

“ _Good. We’re going to head in soon, make sure to stay safe._ ”

“Hey!” Lance whispers, grabbing his shoulder. He’s pointing into the distance. “Did you see that?”

Keith squints. “What? Are there more alligators coming?”

“No- _look_ ,” Lance hisses, extending his arm. “It’s our guy!”

Keith tries again, and sees what Lance is getting at – just slightly beyond the base of the mountain lies a series of caves, and in the one on the upper, upper left-

It’s a hand. It’s many hands. They’re waving frantically.  

“Hold up, Shiro, we have visual on Almo.”

\-----------------

 

It takes, perhaps, another hour for the team to climb their way out of the forest, and yet another taking turns shaking all thirty-two hands of the Leader of the land as he thanks them for saving his life. (“I broke my leg when I fell off a ledge,” he explains. “My hands could not carry me out of the caves to the nearest branches, and so I was stranded.”) Allura flies down from the castle, extending her heartfelt appreciation and relief that he is safe and well (“We shall always be ready to extend a hand to those in need of help!”), and all is well again.

_All is well, huh…_

The door slides open silently, and Keith steps in carefully. The observation deck is empty that night, illuminated faintly by distant glowing stars. Exactly how he likes it.

He positions himself next to one of the large panels, sliding against the ledge as he sits quietly and crosses his arms, staring into space – the great Unknown – dashes of colour splayed across a dark cosmic canvas: in the foreground, loose rocks twirling idly in orbit; in the background, a pale moon, enveloped in mist; in the distance, a strawberry pink planet with large, round craters; in the midst of it, glittering, iridescent objects, scattered; all of it floating in the vast darkness, all so small in the face of a horizon extending into infinity.

Keith can’t help but feel small himself. It’s the truth, he thinks, that they are all so small and _vulnerable_ in the face of the universe, and yet they fight so nobly for a cause greater than anything they’ve ever known. Sometimes none of what’s happening makes any sense to him.

But right now, in this very moment, he’s calm, knowing that they’re here to live another day.

His gaze drifts across the horizon, fingers gently touching the glass, absentmindedly tracing the stars, mind wandering, searching for something to ground himself in…

He already knows. It’s a song, the one song he’s been thinking about since they returned from Nula. Lyrics on the tip of his tongue. He laughs quietly to himself as he traces another constellation, thinking about how they look almost like...

_You would not believe your eyes…if ten million fireflies…_

His voice, as quiet as it is, seems to fill the room, and he sighs, eyes falling shut, taking it in, listening to each faint echo.

_Lit up the world as I fell asleep…_

Keith leans on the glass, head slightly raised. The lyrics roll off his tongue slowly, softly-

_Cause they fill the open air…and leave teardrops everywhere…_

His hum reverberates gently across the room.

_You’d think me rude but I would just stand and…stare._

He’s smiling at the stars, somehow – _ha, Pidge would kill to get a photo of him like that_ – Lance was right, it does cheer him up.

 

“Oh, really?”

Keith’s eyes snap open as he spins around. Lance is leaning against the door frame, arms folded, smiling eyes piercing through the dim light and falling squarely on Keith, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

Keith’s heart stops momentarily – _fuck, I said that out loud – and how long has he been there, anyway?_ His first instinct to say something fierce, pick his legs up and run, but he’s frozen, words failing him miserably. So he starts stammering.

“U-Uh…”

Lance steps in, letting the door slide shut. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I haven’t heard you sing before.”

“Oh, and that makes it okay to sneak up on me all the time?” Keith glowers at Lance as he slides into the space next to him, knees bumping. Lance simply chuckles.

“Please, I know you like it.”

Keith glances at him, then looks away quickly, cheeks burning.

“…Why are you even here, anyway?”

Lance shrugs. “Same reason you’re here, I’m guess.”

“Uh-huh.”

They sit there in silence for a while, watching the Castle pass by a patch of particularly shiny stars. Lance whistles.

“It’s beautiful, huh? The stars. Even more beautiful than from Earth since we’re so up close.”

Keith threads his fingers through his hair absentmindedly. “…I don’t know.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “When I was on Earth, I felt grounded looking up at the stars. Now that I’m amongst the stars...I don’t know where to look.”

Lance stares. “…I get you,” he murmurs. “I used to like to take walks by the beach to clear my head.”

“You can see the stars really well in the desert, you know. The sky’s always crystal clear.”

Even in the dim light, Keith can see Lance smiling gently. “Oh, really?” he says, leaning towards him just slightly, close enough for Keith to see the stars reflected in his eyes. “What do they look like from there?”

_He’s so close._

Keith leans away, eyes wide, heat creeping up his neck again.

“Like they’re alive,” he whispers, his fingers brushing past his warm cheek to tuck his hair behind his ear.

Slowly, Lance turns his head to look at the stars beyond the glass. “That’s beautiful,” he says softly.

 

Keith can’t take his eyes off him.

“Yeah…beautiful…”

 

\-----------------------

Oh _god_ , the ocean’s swallowing him whole. 

\----------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Oh my god, my dear boys…I love these boys so much…_
> 
>  
> 
> **Thanks for reading!!!!** Dudes, the ending was a killer to figure out (see: me crumbling at my desk, screaming) – I changed it _thrice_ – but the mission was super fun to plan out. Also, I love Hunk so much. Shout out to best bro Hunk.
> 
> Leave a comment if you like, or come pester me on [tumblr](http://greenteaquadratini.tumblr.com) if you want, legit, send me asks or something. I love getting to know people in the fandom – also, each message I receive makes me so touched I feel like crying:’) 
> 
> Stay tuned for some lowkey angst next chapter; I’m actually kind of excited. Should take another two weeks, though, ‘cause I have to turn in a paper and some, sorry bout that. Hang tight.


	3. Find Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance deals with _feelings_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me so long to update – had 5 exams and a full paper to write/presentation to prepare, god – thankfully, I'm free to start on the second half of this fic!
> 
> Thanks to all of you who’ve been supporting me – I’m relatively new to the fandom and I haven’t exactly put myself out there so it’s just so heartening when I get feedback! It’s been difficult for me lately, and I’ve been busy. Thank you for every bit of support I’ve received, no matter how small. It makes the process all the more rewarding, although I believe that contributing to the fandom in itself is already a beautiful thing. 
> 
> Potential trigger warning: towards the end, this chapter has an explosion in it and there are thoughts about death and a lot of panic, just to give you a heads up!

 

\----------------

 

Days in the Castle pass by fairly quickly, with the occasional visit of an ally or the disruption of Galra troops, all while keeping under the radar. The plan is to create confusion and attack the foundations until they start to crumble, helping planets strengthen and break free from Galra rule – in the meantime, they’ve already initiated larger building projects with their allies, in preparation of a major showdown. The process is slow, but with a gradual accumulation of strong support, they’re getting there. They’re claiming the universe back.

On days when they’re not busy fighting for lives, they’re training, or attempting bonding exercises – Allura and Shiro’s idea, naturally. It seems strangely idle for them to be doing trust exercises when they’re supposed to be saving the world, but admittedly, it works. Forming Voltron becomes like second nature when their minds are more in equilibrium, and Lance appreciates that. They’re a good team.

To this day, he’s still learning about his team members and their quirks: like when he finds Pidge’s ticklish spot ( _“You best sleep with your eyes open if you pull that shit on me again!”_ ), or when he realizes that Hunk, his best buddy for years, is obsessed with corgi videos (“ _They’re angels, Lance! Look at them! Look at me, I’m crying!”_ ), or when he walks in on Shiro tearing up over a Beyoncé music video, or when Keith-

Well, he knows more about Keith than he’d dare to admit.

For the longest time in the Garrison, Keith was an enigma, _that_ pilot he couldn’t figure out, someone he’d made his mind up to be his sworn enemy despite knowing nothing about him. Now he realizes Keith wears his heart on his sleeve more than anyone else on board. There’s no restraint to his emotion, his frustration or anger, or quiet excitement, or nostalgia – which, somehow, Lance has seen a lot of. He’s so open, Lance never knew.

In training, though, Keith is anything but open. He’s completely guarded, focused, and Lance is having difficulty landing a good kick.

“Dammit,” he pants, blocking another punch as he swings his leg, only to be sidestepped. “ _Honestly._ ”

Keith smirks. “What, had enough?”

“Bring it, samurai-”

Shiro’s voice blares in from the speakers of the room. “ _Okay, that’s enough. Good work, guys. Let Pidge have her turn_.”

“Yeah, dummies,” Pidge quips. “Stop hogging the training deck. I wanna kick Hunk’s ass. 

“Oh, _excuse me?_ ”

 

\--------------------------

 

After the sparring sessions – including a mandatory round each with Allura herself – Shiro gives them a few pointers and gives them the rest of the day off. Hunk sighs in relief as Allura and Shiro leave the room to meet Coran regarding the next stop they’ll be taking the next day.

“A day off? Maybe today’s the day that I finally get to recreate chocolate chip ice cream.”

“Ooh!” Lance perks up. “Dude, I haven’t tasted ice cream in forever. You sure it’s gonna work out?”

Hunk beams, tying his headband on. “Science, Lance, science. Find me in the kitchen in two hours!” He pats Lance’s back as he exits the room. Lance smiles fondly as he gathers his things, making a mental note to get something nice for Hunk the next opportunity he gets.

He whips his head around, noticing Pidge busy talking to Keith behind him. “Oh, I don’t think so, pal,” Pidge is saying, shaking her head and laughing, while Keith sighs exasperatedly.

“Oh, _she’s_ real all right,” He huffs.

Lance raises an eyebrow at them. “What on earth are you guys even talking about?”

Pidge turns to Lance. “Keith thinks the Loch Ness monster’s real.” 

“I’m pretty sure of it, how else can they explain the sightings?”

Lance stares at them blankly. “Your conversations…are so weird.”

“All in good fun,” Pidge says cheerily.

Keith sighs again, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He pulls his hairtie out in a swift movement and shakes his head lightly, letting his messy hair fall over his eyes and the sides of his face. Slowly, he combs through it with his fingers, retying it into a small bun. “Ugh, I hate this,” he mutters, strands of stray hair falling over his eyes. “I guess I get why the rest of you have short hair.”

“I cut mine so that Iverson wouldn’t recognize me, but yeah, having short hair’s pretty great. Right, Lance?”

 _Uh._ Lance realizes that he’s been staring.

“Me?” He flicks his hair to the side in an air of confidence in an effort to hide his momentary space-out. “I enjoy not having my hair in my line of sight so I can see what I’m shooting.”

Keith brushes his hair out of his eyes as he walks past, shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “Suit yourself, loser.”

“Ha. See you later.” 

Keith turns to meet his gaze as he rounds the corner.  

“Mm, see you.”

And with that, he’s gone.

Lance is just about to pick his things up and leave, too, when he’s suddenly aware of a pair of eyes burning holes into his back. He swivels around abruptly, coming face-to-face with Pidge, who’s looking at him with the _slyest_ look-

“‘ _See you later’?_ ” She echoes, glasses glinting. “My, my.”

Lance’s frozen under her scrutiny. “Um, what?”

“Something’s going on, isn’t it?” She smirks. “Can’t hide it from me, McClain.” 

Lance can feel himself low-key panicking, though he’s not exactly sure why.

“Oh my _god_ , Pidge. We are not doing this.”

“No, I’m serious! Are you two, like-" 

“Um, no! I mean, what _do_ you think we’re up to?”

Pidge’s smirking now. “I dunno, you tell me.”  

Lance groans. “Uh…this would have been totally inconceivable a year ago, but we’re actually getting along, I guess? We’re friends?” Because that’s the truth, right? They’re friends now?

“Oh, sure. ‘ _Friends’_.” 

“Piiiidge.”

Pidge’s expression softens. “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, but you know I’m an observant person, and I can tell when something’s going on...and when something’s been going on for a good while.” She pats his back. “Just know that you can talk to me, y’know?”

Meeting her gaze, Lance sighs. “I don’t know what to say, Pidge,” he says, although he knows exactly what he _could_ say. It would be easy to tell her everything, from their first encounter in the middle of the night to the several times they’ve sat in each other’s company, to the strange closeness they’ve come to share, which for some reason he’s come to feel particularly protective over. He considers telling her about their conversations over little things, about his discovery that Keith’s laughter is actually really soft, about Keith’s singing voice being mind-blowingly soothing-

But he doesn’t.

“It’s complicated,” he mutters, shifting his feet. Perhaps that’s the closest to the truth he can manage right now.

Pidge seems to understand. She smiles at him, gently this time. “I get it. Just let me know if you need to talk?”

Lance returns the smile gratefully. “Thanks, Pidge.”

“It’s what we do, we look out for each other. Besides-” She tiptoes and leans into his ear, whispering, “I’m rooting for you guys.”

Lance gapes at Pidge as she walks away, waving. “Wait, _what_?”

“Nothing, nothing. See you for ice cream.”

 

\---------------------------

 

Their conversation gets Lance thinking, what _are_ they?

Sure, they’re friends all right, but he isn’t sure if friends hang out in each other’s rooms every other day. _Do they?_ He finds himself pacing his room mindlessly, wondering exactly _why_ he found it so hard to answer Pidge earlier. They’re friends, aren’t they, he thinks. Friends who keep each other company at night…in complete secrecy from their other friends…

“Oh my god,” he groans aloud, collapsing onto his bed, hands over his face. _Unbelievable_ , he thinks to himself miserably. Lance McClain, the bold and confident, flustered over a dumb boy like he’s back in his first year of high school all over again-

A knock on the door and it slides open, revealing said dumb boy. _Ah._

“Hunk was wondering if you’d want to try some,” Keith says, lifting his arm to indicate the mug he’s holding, which has a spoon sticking out of it.

Lance sits up immediately. “Ah – shit, I almost forgot.”

“It’s no Ben & Jerry’s, but it _is_ pretty good.”

“Hell, I’d take Hunk over any conglomerate any day.” Lance scoots to the side, leaving space for Keith to sit as he leans to take the cup from him. “Ooh, looks creamy.”

“Kaltenecker’s a lifesaver,” Keith says as he passes the mug over. “Without her we wouldn’t have any milk to use.”

“Uh-huh. Told you guys I’m a damn blessing for getting her.” Lance sticks the spoon in his mouth and melts. “Oh shit, am I dead? Is this heaven?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Still alive and kicking, unfortunately.”

“Shut up, man, I’m enjoying this moment.” Lance sighs in bliss, letting his eyelids fall shut as he takes another mouthful. “Sweet Mother of Jesus.”

“It’s really good,” Keith admits.

“It _issss_.” Lance nods enthusiastically, scooping another spoonful and thrusting the spoon towards Keith.

“How about another taste of heaven?”

_…_

Keith stares at him for the longest time, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar, before Lance catches the full brunt of what he’s said, which, in hindsight, is the flirtiest thing he’s ever accidentally said in his life.

“Oh, uh,” he stammers, arm still suspended in mid-air. “Um-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because Keith suddenly moves forward and takes the spoon in his mouth, wiping it clean.

“Heaven tastes good,” He says quietly, drawing away as he licks his upper lip, expression completely unreadable.

Lance doesn’t move. “Uh-”

“Shiro called me,” Keith utters quickly, picking himself up, although Lance is a hundred percent sure he didn’t hear anyone calling. “See you – uh, and that mug’s yours to wash.”

And with that, Lance is left gaping at thin air, eyes darting between the doorway and the spoon he’s still holding, a flutter of emotion trying desperately to settle in his stomach.

 _This_ is why he has trouble defining their relationship.

 

\-------------------------

 

The truth is, he’d lied that night at the observation deck, when he’d caught Keith singing to the stars.

_“…Why are you even here, anyway?”_

_“Same reason you’re here, I guess.”_

He hadn’t really been there to see the stars, and he’d been too afraid to admit it.

_Because you’re here, I guess._

 

\--------------------------

 

A day later and they’re at it again, fulfilling their roles as defenders of the Universe. This time they’ve stopped at a small planet known to the region as “the flea market of flea markets”, and _man_ , were they telling the truth – they could see the network from above, an intricate square patch amongst the plains, filled with vendors from top to bottom, from small stalls to large landscapes _(“Essentially, space mall 2.0,”_ Lance comments enthusiastically as they land). Allura’s here to affirm diplomatic ties with the Queen of the Enterprise – basically, the overlord of the land – while Coran’s here to stock up on valuable gear ( _“Should probably get to fixing the video equipment too, eh?”_ ). Shiro and Keith are assigned to follow Allura to the headquarters, while Pidge and Hunk work on the Castle’s cloaking devices and defence mechanisms in a hidden landing space. Lance? He’s paired with Coran, whose incessant chatter about everything he sees is half endearing, half driving him _crazy_.

“Oh, lookie here!” The Altean says cheerily, curling his ginger moustache in glee while picking up yet another ornate staff. “Another elusive artefact from the Golden Days – although not as jewelled as the previous, but all the more charming, with its polished handle and spiral carvings- _oh, dear lord, is that a nebula hologram?_ ”

Lance groans internally. It’s like hearing his grand-uncle ramble about his dogs – amazing, but unbearable after two hours. “Sorry, Coran, remind me what we’re looking for again?”

Coran looks up from the plate that he was examining. “Ah, yes, the spare parts! I’ve gotten most of them already – just one more stop down the lane – it seems as though the Princess will need a while more, though, so we can most certainly take our time appreciating these treasures.”

“Ah.” Lance deadpans. “Er- Not that this sucks or whatever, but is there anything else to do around here?”

The elderly shopkeeper smiles knowingly. “Ah, you’re a human, no? You might be more interested in the things they sell across the street.” With one of her tentacles, she points to a small shop behind them. “Earth items, one of the few shops which carries them.”

“That’s a dandy suggestion!” Coran exclaims, patting Lance on the back. “I just have one more place to go and we’re done, and it’s just three shops down this one, so you could pop in for a bit and have the ol’ spin-around!”

Lance takes a glance at the storefront, which looks exactly like that of an old bookstore, curtains at the front panel hiding all but the silhouettes of the shelves inside. “Uh, okay, I’ll wait for you in there. You’ll be safe?”

“Absolutely, dear Blue Paladin. If anything, I’ll be right across the road- oh _my_ , so you _do_ have that book!”

Knowing he’s lost Coran’s attention, Lance sighs, nods to the shopkeeper and heads towards the Earth shop cautiously. A small jingle sounds as he enters the place, like a…convenience store?

The store-owner sits behind the cashier idly, looking up from his book when Lance enters. “Hey, Earthling,” he says casually, taking a puff from the cigarette in his hand, exhaling violet smoke. “We got a pretty decent collection of books and music here, so go ahead and check it out. Don’t steal anything, though.”

“Chill, buddy, I’m just browsing.” Lance rounds the corner as the guy mumbles a sort of acquiescence and returns to reading.

The store is small but neat and surprisingly fresh-smelling, quiet but for the soft trail of music coming from further inside, playing a soft, hopeful song he knows he’s heard before but can’t rightly place because of its muffled quality. Its wooden floorboards creak just the slightest as he puts his weight on them as he passes a set of matching white bookshelves which remind him strongly of an IKEA display. An assortment of hard-cover books line the top shelves, and below, old cellphones alongside typewriters, Bluetooth radios and digital alarm clocks, and, below, ballpoint pens and post-it notes. On the other side, it’s all kitchen appliances, forks and spoons and frying pans. Lance picks up an apron covered with dog motifs, and, reminded fondly of Hunk, holds onto it, mind made up over the purchase.

Clutching the apron in one hand, Lance turns towards the cashier, about to slap it on the counter, when a large, round CD player sitting on the desk in front catches his eye. Letting his fingers linger over its surface, he traces the concaves of its buttons, feeling its vibrations as it continues to play. Inside it, a disc whirs quietly, while its case lies open next to it, empty. Lance can’t help but smile a bit as he flips it over gently and scans the cover – he remembers what song it is now. The shopkeeper’s singing it under his breath to himself, _I won’t give up on us, even when the skies get rough..._

It fills him with a strange, quiet optimism.

He surveys the surrounding area quickly. Piquing his interest are the three CD racks and two large boxes of records and cassettes which sit underneath the desk, which seem to be filled with tracks old and new – _damn, how does this store even have the latest edition of that?_ Squatting down, Lance dips his hand into the box curiously, moving it through, browsing–

And then he recognizes the title of a pristine vinyl in the back, sticking out amongst a sea of cassettes, and for some reason, one sentence rings in his mind over and over as he focuses his gaze on it.

 _Music is the best way to fill up the empty space_.

Instinctively, his arm reaches for the record, and he pulls it out in a smooth swipe.

Pink Floyd’s _Wish You Were Here._

 _Oh god_ , he thinks, heart racing. His thumb sweeps over its glossy, plastic-covered surface as he straightens up, mind only vaguely aware of the soft hum of music playing in the background and Coran bursting through the doorway, asking him if there’s anything he wants to get because they gotta run-

“Yeah, uh, just two things.”

 

\-------------------------

 

“Hey.”

Lance finds himself at Keith’s door again, knocking just once. It used to be more awkward, when it all began, when he’d try to come up with a new nickname or joke every time he swung by, but it gradually settled to small knocks and hushed ‘hello’s. Keith, on the other hand, had never bothered with formalities – he’d just show up at his door, quietly, with the occasional knock, and somehow, Lance would know to let him in. Sometimes he’d just leave the door unlocked. 

Keith’s door is always locked, but he always lets him in.

As if on cue, the door slides open and Keith surfaces from behind, the gaze of his dark eyes falling squarely on Lance. “Hey,” he says quietly, blinking, and Lance tries his hardest not to notice how long his eyelashes are as he follows him into the room. “Easy mission, huh.”

“Eh, wasn’t exactly thrilling,” Lance sits and turns to Keith, who’s frowning. “Why do you have that look on your face?”

Keith brings his legs up onto his bed, crossing them. “Because it’s too good to be true. We haven’t had this kind of luck in forever – usually there’s some catch, you know, some trap lying ahead or something.”

“You think they played us or something?”

“No…but…” Keith sighs. “I don’t have a good feeling about the next mission. Things have been too quiet lately.”

“And just because it’s quiet now means that it’ll all go to shit tomorrow? Come on, Mullet.” Lance nudges him in the ribs with his elbow gently. “Have more faith in the defenders of the Universe, won’t you.”

“…That’s us, Lance.”

Lance can’t help but snort. “No shit, idiot,” he says softly. “I mean, have more faith in us. We’re not pushovers. Even if bad things are coming, why not let them come?”

Keith glances at him and sighs again. “We’ll see.”

“Cheer up, you emo.”

“Shut up.” Keith punches him in the shoulder, but there’s no force to it. Lance’s hand moves to rub the spot absentmindedly as the conversation comes to a standstill, fingers running in circles just as his mind is – he can’t quite pinpoint it, but there’s something about the atmosphere that’s driving him _crazy_ , maybe it’s the talk about being defenders of the Universe, maybe it’s just getting stuffy. He’s become acutely aware of the way the air has become still but he can faintly hear Keith breathing next to him – you know, someone should _really_ fix their ventilation sometime because it’s getting warm and they’re both looking a bit flushed, Keith’s fidgeting and won’t meet his eyes, and _he’s_ fidgeting with one arm still hidden in his jacket like an idiot-

Ugh, _ugh_. Lance wants to crawl into a hole and hide his reddening face in it forever, because he’s behaving like a child.

“I-” He blurts. “Got something for you.”

Keith’s eyes widen in surprise as he looks up at him. “What?” He says faintly.

Lance looks at him nervously. “On the mission, I stopped by this Earth store which had the most insane collection of vintage stuff, and I got an apron for Hunk because he’s like the best chef ever and I owe him so much and you know how much he loves dogs? Like I once caught him watching the same corgi belly flop video on repeat? It was a cool shop-”

Realizing he’s rambling, Lance pauses. Keith’s still staring at him.

“…Anyway, I…”

He pulls the vinyl out from behind his back, under his jacket, putting it in Keith’s hands.

“…Thought of you,” he mumbles, waves of heat rushing through his cheeks as his hands let go and retreat into his pockets. For a good moment, Lance stares at Keith anxiously while Keith sits still, eyes wide, gaze fixated on the vinyl on his lap. When he does speak, his voice cracks just slightly.

“ _Wish You Were Here…_ ” he says under his breath, and for one moment he looks like he’s going to cry. But he doesn’t. “I’m going to have to buy a vinyl player, then,” he whispers, blinking as his fingers trace the sides tenderly.

“Turntable, it’s called a turntable, Keith.”

“You think they sell those at space stations?” He laughs faintly, glancing up to meet Lance’s gaze, and in that moment Lance is struck by the realization that Keith’s eyes are big and bright and purple like the galaxy and he knows one thing and one thing only, that he’s totally and completely fucked.

“No, but I swear we’ll find one,” he says, breathless.

And Keith- Keith smiles at him, a small but incredibly soft smile which makes his heart _ache_.

“You didn’t have to,” he says quietly. His expression’s turned unreadable again but his gaze is still soft, eyes wide as ever. “Thank you.”

The warm, aching feeling in Lance’s chest doesn’t go away.

“Anytime…”

…

In a minute, he’s up and out of the door, saying that it’s late and he needs to go, tumbling into his room and onto his bed with the lights still dark. Lance can _feel_ his heart beating against his chest, what the hell – he didn’t know what would happen if he were to stay there another moment, and he isn’t sure if he wants to know. He’s sitting curled up on his bed now, lips pressed to the top of his knee, wondering how the hell the past few months of their quiet friendship have developed into…this.

“Oh my god,” he whispers to himself. “I need to tell him.”

He has no idea how he’s going to do it, but he knows he has to before the opportunity’s gone.

 

\-------------------------

 

Fate isn’t so kind, however.

The alarms blare deep into the next morning, causing a mad rush for the lions. It’s a fleet of Zarkon’s forces, springing on them from behind a large moon like a swarm of murderous bees in an attempt to surround the ship and conquer it. 

“Not today, you fuckers!” Pidge yell, as the giant robot smashes a portion of the fleet into oblivion.

“Language!”

“ _Not the time,_ Shiro!” Hunk chides. “Oh quiznak, why are there so _many_ of them, and why are they so small? What the hell, they’re like little orbs?”

“They seem to have adopted a kind of swarm mentality with the technology they’re using,” Allura exclaims over the intercom. “Be careful!”

“Understood, Princess. Get to safety until the TeleDav is fully ready!” Shiro switches to address the group. “Guys, I know you may have the overwhelming desire to exterminate the entire fleet, but I don’t think that’s possible. We need to keep them busy until we’re able to warp to safer place.”

Lance’s focused on keeping them from being entangled.  “Sure, but we’ll take out a good number while we’re at it, right?”

Keith’s raging as he speaks. “Oh, we sure will!” he yells, cutting through the enemy lines. “Fucking assholes.”

“Calm down, Keith.” Shiro’s voice comes in as Voltron jumps from space rock to space rock, diverting the swarm’s attention from the retreating Castle. “Okay, we need to keep them occupied. Hunk, how’re we looking?”

“Could be better, but uh, I’d say we blast through some of them to keep them apart and disoriented?”

“Good call.” The team activates Voltron’s cannons and fires rapidly at the swarm, which scatters around the shots in response, losing part of its structural stability during those precious seconds. Quickly, one arm is directed to distracting, while the other to eliminating the weakened edges, until the swarm’s been reduced by half its size.

“Paladins, we need, um, five more minutes!” Allura’s voice blasts over the intercom. “We’ll appear at the last moment and you’ll have to return for us to warp through the portal, I will inform you at the exact moment that we are ready!”

“Sure-o, Princess,” Lance says as they swerve around, blocking yet another stream of blows. “Okay, so these bastards are relentless-”

“Oh shit, what is _that_?”

Pidge’s interruption brings to their attention a shadow looming in the distance. As it approaches the battleground, Lance can see it more clearly now – it’s a larger, rounder aircraft, equipped with a cannon perched on its top, though it seems strangely shaped but he can’t quite put a finger on it-

“It’s the Queen Bee,” he says, hushed.

“That’s it,” says Shiro. “The controller of the swarm.”

Lance wants to ask what the next step is, but before he or anyone else on the team can do so, they’re faced with a blinding light coming from the enemy. What’s left of the swarm has come to a still; it’s the cannon, it’s glowing, charging, faced in their direction-

“Oh _fuck_!” In a flash, they pull down, avoiding the blast by just an inch.

“What the hell was that?” Keith pants.

“I don’t know.” Shiro sounds worried. “Look at what the blast left in its wake.”

Lance glances at the empty space that was hit – except that it’s space no longer. The blast is…eating at it?

The colour drains from his face.

“Guys, we _cannot_ get hit.”

“Oh my god.” Hunk’s alarmed. “I don’t know how they did it, but that’s most likely a warp portal, and it doesn't look good.”

Lance picks up on Keith swearing under his breath. “Okay, let’s shut it down,” Keith grits. “Fast.” The cannon strikes again with a relatively smaller blast, and they’re forced to leap to safety as rocks explode behind them. “God dammit!”

Pidge speaks rapidly as they fire their blasters at the ship, which seems to keep itself protected by summoning the swarm as a shield. “Okay, I’ve never seen this technology before, but there has to be a weak spot, right? I think we can destroy its core if we get close enough.”

“Or we should avoid it until the TeleDav works, which should be soon?” Hunk pipes anxiously.

“No, let’s just fucking do it.” Keith says, although Lance can sense the underlying tone of panic in his voice. “Shiro, we need to move.”

“I know.” The robot’s entire being shakes, but its legs refuse to move. “Guys, what’s going on?”

It takes them a few moments to realize it. It’s the swarm, the smallest of jets have grouped to weigh them down like a net at their feet and behind them. The realization that they’re temporarily stuck in place strikes Lance with dread, especially when he can hear the sound of and feel a slight heat from the beam recharging in the near distance. They could shake the swarm away, probably, with blasters and swords, but with so little time to spare, there’s only one option at this point.

Shiro’s voice is rushed, frantic. “Voltron, disperse, _now!_ ”

Lance feels a swoop in his entire being as instinct takes over and he jerks his steering away.

It all happens too fast – Green and Yellow thrown to the left, Blue and Red thrown to the right, Black thrown up, the beam running straight through where they’d been standing, obliterating the rock behind them and melting the cosmic space around it, swirling, twisting… 

 _Oh god,_ Lance thinks, the impact of the split leaving him temporarily dazed. _That could’ve been us._

He’s not given much time to think, however, before he hears the rumble of the cannon. Quickly, he pats the control desk, heart thumping furiously. 

“Blue, babe! We need to get out of its range, asap!”

Lance thanks his blessings as Blue purrs and leaps into action, springing away. Still slightly disoriented, he glances around quickly, panic rising in his chest. He can’t spot the rest of the team because of the debris the blasts have caused, and nobody’s speaking on the intercom. _Oh, shit._ The split must’ve temporarily disconnected them, but god knows how long it would take for it to reconnect…

“Lance. _Lance!_ ”

It takes him a moment for him to register the voice. “Oh fuck, Keith!” 

“Look, even though we’re not a giant robot anymore, we can still take it down,” He says quickly. “As individual lions we’re faster and more flexible, so I’m gonna try to find its weak spot and take it down.”

Lance groans. “Don’t do it alone. I’m coming with.”

“Where _are_ you? Fuck, I can’t see anyone else.”

“I don’t know, but I can see the Queen Bee.” Lance squints, catching a glimpse of what seems to be a spherical mass of energy in its middle, protected by an icy force-field. _The power source._ “I see the reactor, or whatever it is,” he says into his headset, to which Keith murmurs in concurrence. “You need to melt the hell off that shield and I’ll go in and freeze the core till it’s dead. Good plan?”

“The shittiest plan I’ve ever heard. Let’s do it.”

 

\-------------------------

 

In hindsight, Lance thinks, maybe diving into action without the rest of the team’s a foolish idea. Maybe they should have waited a while longer or tried to hide, because what they’re doing is absolutely reckless and he’s worried about it, but it’s too late. They’re doing it; Blue’s crouched, hidden from view, while Red moves in from behind as swiftly as possible and starts shooting an incredible flame which only seems to grow in intensity as it persists. By this time, the cannon’s already begun to charge, and the core glows a dangerously bright yellow as its force-field melts slowly. Too slowly, Lance realizes.

“Shit, Keith, move out of the way!”

The beam misses Red narrowly as she jumps out of the way, flame stubbornly fixed on the core as she flies to a lower position. As dangerous as the plan is, it seems to be working, because the shield’s half down and the core seems dampened by its last blast, seeking recovery.

“I’m going to give it a shot!”

On impulse, Lance flies in on Blue, aiming his ice beam at a narrow opening – it hits the core squarely in the middle, immediately producing a hissing sound. _Oh god_ , Lance sighs in relief, because he can see his beam suppressing the fiery energy attempting to crawl out from within, streaks of ice trailing around it and solidifying as Red stops her fire and moves behind Blue.

“Incredible shot. Is it going to work?” Keith says anxiously. The cannon continues to rumble, but it sputters as it struggles to gather the energy to shoot another warp into space.

“Looks like it, but can’t be sure.” Lance moves Blue closer as her beam persists – the entire core shudders and fizzes as it becomes completely covered in ice. “Did you just _compliment_ me?”

“What? How is _that_ the takeaway from this experience?”

“Because I relish in the admiration and praise of others. Kidding, it’s cause it’s rare coming from you.”

A small pause. “Well, I meant it.”

Lance doesn’t know how to respond, but by this time, Blue’s beam has stopped, and his attention switches to the now-frozen energy generator. The fleet seems to have shut down, the mothership having been subdued and its numbers having been drastically reduced, leaving them floating in silence as he inspects the core closely. “It looks…” He’s about to say something about getting Pidge to examine it when something catches his eye and his heart goes cold.

Something’s wrong, he senses, as he notices a very subtle white flicker from within. _A white flame?_ Hearing Blue purr dangerously, he starts to back away as the flicker becomes a line, and the line seems to thicken from within.

“Keith, we need to move away, I don’t know what’s going to happen but it’s not gonna be good, we need to find the rest-”

He’s cut off by a series of shudders, shaking him and Blue as the entire surrounding area jolts erratically, akin to an invisible hand pinching and twisting the stars. The core, though frozen, seems to be lit with a blinding white light, clouding his vision, and he’s close, _way too close_ to it all–  

He can feel vibrations in his chest, in the entire cockpit, and he doesn’t know _how_ he knows but he’s certain that it’s going to erupt and claim the entire plot of space with it–

_Of course, it’s a self-detonation device._

Lance has never been more afraid for his life than this very moment.

“Blue,” he croaks, speeding up. “Please.”

_I don’t want us to die, please._

In his earpiece, Keith’s yelling in panic – _Fuck- Lance, move-_ and he knows, he’s trying, but the warp’s starting to suck him in and he’s losing traction and he knows that Blue’s not as fast as Red, who’s gone by now, he can’t see her anymore, and everything’s going to _shit_ , he screams internally, _this is real, he’s gonna die if he doesn’t move fast enough_.

He makes the mistake of looking back, catching a good glimpse of the space around the mothership warping and morphing like thick obsidian paint on a waxy surface, a strangely graceful display for something so deadly. Every fibre in his body’s telling him to look away, to focus on getting out of here, but he can’t peel his eyes away from the sight, mind thinking, _this is the last thing I’m going to see_. He’s whispering to Blue, _come on babe, come on_ , like his desperation would make them go any faster, but it doesn’t, it just makes it harder to breathe.

“Keith,” he says into the mouthpiece shakily as the rumbling grows louder and the light seems to seep in. “I’m so sorry, shit, I need to tell you-”

“Save your words, I’m not letting you die!”

Lance’s eyes widen as he catches a flash of red. Hears a loud thud, Feels a sharp jerk which throws him onto the floor.

 _Please, go_ , a voice in his mind says. He’s never heard it before, but hearing it fills him with warmth, like tendrils of flames wrapping around his mind and chest, comforting him, urging him not to lose hope-

“Blue, go!” He hears Keith in his earpiece, voice desperate. “ _Go_!”

And Blue goes faster than ever before, and all Lance can do is grasp at the floor and try to breathe, trying to understand what just happened, why he can’t hear the rumble as well anymore, why the light isn’t coming through. “Blue, what-” he gasps, pushing himself up. “What happened, what’s happening-” 

Words fail him as he falls back into his seat, when he looks up and realizes that the explosion far behind them, that they’re no longer in danger, and he stares at the control panel in confusion for a good moment before it dawns on him.

It was Red. She’d pushed them hard, given them a boost and told them to go, and they did.

“Oh god…” he mumbles under his breath as Blue continues to move, presumably to find the rest of the team. _The team. Oh my god-_

“Keith. Fuck. Fuck!”

He’s standing up now, arms moving frantically, mind in a frenzy. “Keith, please, if you’re there, talk to me, holy _shit_. Blue, can you sense Red? Where are they? Can we turn around?”

Blue emits a low purr in response, and all Lance can take away from it is that Red’s _somewhere_ if not completely obliterated by that monster of a blast, which has already begun to settle down. In no way is he comforted.

“Blue, please, I’m begging you,” he says weakly. “Let’s go back, we need to find them, what if he’s-”

He can’t say it. He won’t believe it.

“ _Blue_ ,” he pleads, gathering it within him to make his voice stronger, and while Blue hesitates, his words seem to resonate within, and she decides to turn around and move towards the original site, where the light is fading and debris is clearing.

As the landscape clears, there’s nothing. The explosion’s cleared everything in the immediate area, it’s like nothing was there in the first place.

Lance’s not sure if his heart’s beating too fast or that it’s stopped completely, because he can’t feel it.

“W-What…”

“ _Lance -_ ” Lance’s heart stops for real as he hears his name, _his_ voice in his headset. “ _Lance-”_

His first instinct is to swear at him in panic. “Fuck you, where are you!”

“ _I’m in Red, I’m alive, but I don’t know where I am. It’s completely dark._ ”

“Keith, what happened?” He’s not aware that he was holding back tears until they begin falling. “You’re not here – like, there’s nothing. I don’t see you-”

“ _I…Red…We saw you guys in the radius of the blast, and I…went for it. Pushed you guys, somehow Blue made it out. We got sucked in…Hunk’s right. The final explosion opened one big warp portal and we’re in it and I-”_

Lance hears a shaky intake of breath.

 _“Lance, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I can still talk to you, even, but I’m probably going to lose it soon, or maybe I’ve lost it already-_ ”

“Keith, I’m still here, talk to me,” Lance urges, grasping at the control panel helplessly.

“ _Fuck,. I don’t know where this warp’s going to take me._ ” Keith’s voice, though fuzzier, is still discernible. “ _Tell Shiro I’m sorry._ ”

“Shut up,” Lance says firmly, although he’s trembling violently, vision blurring. “We’ll find you, just- just hold on, okay, don’t die in space, please-”

“ _I won’t die.”_ Keith’s voice grows fainter through Lance’s earpiece. “ _Lance, I don’t know how, but…_ ”

“We’ll find you,” Lance repeats, although he has no idea how, but there _has_ to be a way _._ “Don’t die on me.”

“ _I’m losing you. Fuck. Lance, I…_ ”

He’s crying again. “Keith, don’t you _fucking_ dare.”

“ _Lance, find me-_ ”

“Keith, please-”

“ _I…_ ”

“Keith? _Keith._ ”

It’s useless. The line’s dead.

Lance can’t move, he can barely breathe.

“Oh god…no, no _no no_ …” Lance collapses into his seat, staring into space, barely aware of the blurs of yellow and green approaching him in the distance. “ _No…_ ” He’s only vaguely aware of the voices in the intercom, only registering their worried tones and frantic expressions, unmoving, breath hitching, seizing. 

“…please, Lance, speak to us!” It’s Hunk, yelling, his mind registers after a while, and he realizes that they need to get out of here before anything worse happens.

“Guys…” He says faintly. “I’m okay, I’m here, I…”

“Shit!” It’s Pidge. “Lance, are you okay? The blast was so big, we thought-”

“We thought you got caught in it, oh god-”

“…” Lance chokes on his words. “Guys, I…”

_It’s not me we need to worry about-_

Instinctively, because Lance isn’t moving, _can’t_ move, Blue joins Yellow and Green and they move to greater safety, and in the distance he sees _Black_ , and he’s afraid- he doesn’t know what to _say_ -

“Where’s…”

A dreaded silence fills the entire space when it becomes apparent that one of them is missing.

“He’s alive-” Lance manages. “But he’s somewhere out there, Pidge, we need to find him-”

“ _Lance-_ ” It’s Shiro. “Lance, are you alright? We saw the blast-”

“Shiro, there’s no time, we need to go back and find him,” Lance says desperately.

“Find him? What do you…” Shiro trails off, and Lance goes numb.

“Shiro, I…”

“Lance, what happened?” Shiro’s voice fills with a raw panic that he’s never detected before. “Where's Keith?”

“I don’t know, he was warped-”

“Lance, _is he alive-_ ”

“He is, I heard him-” Lance gasps. “He’s out there, Shiro _, I’m so sorry, he saved me_ -”

“Calm down. Breathe.” Hunk’s voice rings loud and clear through his earpiece, and he’s vaguely aware of them entering the Castle. Part of the tension in him dissolves, but he can’t stop crying, he’s pathetic, he’s so fucking pathetic-

Blue lands on her feet, just as the others do, and immediately he can see from the corner of his eye the rest of the team running towards him, patting Blue, asking what _happened_ -

Before he knows it, they’re all in the cockpit with him, Hunk pulling him into a tight hug, Pidge at the side, checking all the equipment she can, patting Blue’s walls, murmuring comfort, Shiro moving right next to him, hand on his shoulder, expression unreadable.

“You said he’s still out there?” He asks.

Lance nods, unable to speak.

Hunk sighs. “So they were portals…”

“Or a black hole, I don’t know…” Lance whispers.

“No, no.” Pidge shakes her head. “Blue’s certain Red’s out there, and the other Lions can feel it, too.”

“He could be anywhere...” Hunk’s face forms a troubled expression. “We have no way of knowing where he was warped to, and our radars aren’t showing anything.”

“But-” Pidge says grimly. “We’ve found each other before and we’ll do it again. Besides, Keith has good survival instincts…it’s going to be okay.”

“Trust in Keith.” Shiro says, voice firm, giving Lance’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “We should place our trust in Keith to stay alive, just as how he’s placed his trust in us to find him.” He faces them, expression serious but tender. “Keep calm, team. We’ll get him back.”

And all Lance can do is nod and lean into Hunk’s embrace, hoping that he won’t release him for another minute more because it’s the only thing that’s keeping him from losing feeling in his entire being. He can’t have any doubt that they’ll get him back. He musn’t, because they _have_ to get him back, they can’t do without him, _he_ can’t do without him.

…

 

_I’m nothing…without you…_

 

\------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know about you but I’m in real pain rn oh my gahhhhhh
> 
> (I wrote this chapter from Lance’s pov but pretty much every time Lance thinks “oh no” in his head, I’m convinced that Keith is thinking the same. Mutual pining, mutual panicking. Oh, boys.)
> 
> So, uh, half of it’s pretty fluffy and then the rest is a whirlwind. _God_ I racked my brain so hard writing this, and my heart felt so much pain this time round, I had to remind myself that there are better times ahead. I think some scenes aren’t at their best, and I’d like to apologize for that. With each piece I write I will continue to improve.
> 
> I’m going to try to write and release the next three chapters within the same week, so my next update will be late June-early July. I am, however, working on something else and I’m super excited about it so yeah, I might release that before I finish this. Rest assured, I do intend on finishing this piece, that’s a personal goal of mine on top of it all. **Thanks for your patience and love!!!**
> 
> Visit me on [tumblr](http://greenteaquadratini.tumblr.com) if you wanna keep me company xoxo


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